


The Oracular Refrain

by notfreyja



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: (but he knows he'll just wake up so not really), Destruction of Earth, Destruction of Vulcan, Fix-It, Groundhog Day, M/M, Q Continuum, Q interferes in everything, Rocks Fall Everyone Dies, Suicide, The Narada Incident, Time Loop
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-28
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-01-06 13:55:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 15
Words: 15,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12212634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notfreyja/pseuds/notfreyja
Summary: It is an unspoken rule: The Continuum does not interfere in that timeline. You know, THAT one. But hey, rules are made to be broken. Which is how after the destruction of Vulcan and the battle of the Narada, Jim gets to wake up in the morning... and try again. And again. And again. Honestly, he's starting to lose count.





	1. Chapter 1

***Attempt 1***

 

When Scotty ejects the warp core, nothing happens for a moment. Jim can’t tell how long that moment is in real time, but to him, it seems to stretch out forever. Just an infinite existence of limbo, a schrodingers explosion, an anxiety inducing will-they/won’t-they of death by black hole.

 

And then it exists, the full untethered force of the reactors hitting the hull of  _ The Enterprise  _ with a power not even comprehensible that might tear her apart and fling everyone aboard her into the blackness of space. Which, considering everything that they had survived today, would be kind of embarrassing.

 

The blue fire, burning faster than the lack of oxygen can extinguish - flaring like a newborn star - envelops them, wrapping around the viewscreen in a desperate attempt to add more fuel to the fire.

 

And then it’s over.

 

The calm hits and for one glorious moment, everything actually feels okay. The crew erupts into cheers, people are crying and hugging. Nero is gone, and so is Vulcan, but Earth is  _ saved  _ and they’re alive.

 

God, they’re  _ alive! _

 

Jim offers a smile at Spock, who gives him a slight nod in response. Maybe the Vulcan’s older counterpart was onto something. Maybe that whole friendship thing had some merit after all.

 

And then all goes still.

 

Really, still.

 

In fact, it looks like someone put the bridge on freeze frame. 

 

“Hello, Jim.”

 

Jim whirls to face the speaker, who, up until a moment ago, had not been on the bridge at all, and despite what his regulation uniform suggests, he just doesn’t seem…  _ right. _

 

“Who the hell are you?”

 

The stranger tisks at him. Literally  _ tisks. _ “Oh, Jimmy, boy, that’s no way to welcome a guest. But you’ve had a rough day, so I’ll excuse your manners.”

 

The stranger snaps his fingers.

 

And now they’re standing on the hull of the ship. There was no buzz of a transporter, no split-second delay. It didn’t even feel like he blinked. Jim was on the bridge, and now he is here, standing on the hull of  _ The Enterprise,  _ with no life support of artificial gravity to stop him from imploding or suffocating or floating away, and yet…

 

“Are you willing to behave now?”

 

The day Jim’s had? Yeah, he can roll with this. “Okay. Fine. Who are you?”

 

“I am Q.” The stranger, (Q apparently) delivers with a smile.

 

Jim frowns slightly. “Alright. But are you Q, or are you  _ a  _ Q.”

 

Q’s smile becomes a toothy grin. “You are clever for a monkey, Kirk. Fine, we’ll cut the bullshit. I want you to play a game for me.”

 

This day is just getting weirder and weirder. “What game?”

 

“Oh the rules are very simple. There’s only two of them: If you lose a planet, try again; If you die, try again.”

 

“I… don’t understand.”

 

The stranger’s smile becomes almost threatening. “You will.”

 

He snaps his fingers again, and just as seamlessly as before the scene changes.

  
  


***Attempt 2***

  
  


Jim’s lying in bed,  _ his  _ bed, in the Academy dorms. His alarm clock is screaming it’s usual shrill noise, a fervent plea for Jim to just get up and get on with it already. Autopilot kicks in, his hand flying out to slam against the snooze button with much more force than strictly necessary. But hey, Jim’s had one hell of a day (that just got even weirder somehow).

 

“Morning sunshine,” Bones scoffs from the doorway. 

 

The adrenaline of the fight still surging, he springs up. It’s only until  _ after  _ he’s set himself in motion that he realizes the tangled mess his legs have become with the blanket. So in a fashion resembling an old hand-rendered animation reel Jim bolts straight upright and then jackknifes to the floor.

 

“You alright, kid?”

 

What Jim means to say is ‘no, I’m not alright, how can you even ask that considering the events of the past twenty-four hours, also I think I blacked out when did we get home?’ But with his mind spinning and his face planted into the floor all he manages is a low groan.

 

“That bad, huh?” Bones snorts and shuffles away, leaving Jim to get his bearings.

 

His body aches, a deep sick lapping of pain from his heels up to his shoulders. Which considering that recently he’s been kicked around more than a can that makes sense. But he shifts experimentally and the muscles respond without protest. Huh.

 

Odd, but moving on. Jim pulls himself off the floor, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He needs an explanation as to when they got back. And what happened to that Q guy, if anyone else even saw him. 

 

Shit, how long has he been out? With sudden frantic haste, he grabs at his communicator, flicking it open to see the date.

 

And that’s when Jim thinks for the first time today (but certainly not the last) that he has lost his  _ fucking mind _ .

 

According to his Comm, it’s morning. As in the past morning. As in, the life shattering events he just lived through didn’t happen and he’s just a cadet and Vulcan -- 

 

_ Vulcan! _

 

“Turn on the news!” He’s screaming before his legs catch up with him, practically vaulting into the living room and onto the couch. “Bones! Now!”

 

Leonard’s staring at him like he’s lost his mind, which is only fair because Jim feels like he’s at least got a few screws loose, but he obliges all the same.

 

Nothing. The newscaster is droning on about the usual morning rubbish. It’s all weather forcast, and scrolling across the bottom of the screen is nothing more than the local traffic updates in a font that makes them look far more important than they ever actually are.

 

Something is very  _ wrong. _

  
  


***.***

  
  


“Okay, so you're telling me that you saw the future?”

 

Jim sighs, putting his mug of coffee on the counter with far more force than strictly necessary. “I don’t know  _ what _ I’m telling you, man. Just that this isn’t right. That ten minutes ago, I was on the bridge of  _ The Enterprise.” _

 

The concern is clear in Bones’ voice. “Jim, that ship hasn’t even had her maiden voyage yet, and you think you took her through a warzone yesterday.”

 

“But that’s the thing, it wasn’t yesterday!”

 

“Kid--”   
  


“No, Bones, I’m serious. I wasn’t dreaming, it wasn’t a vision. I was there, it was  _ real _ !”  _ More real than this feels.  _ “I don’t know how, and I don’t know why, but Leonard, it  _ happened. _ ”

 

The use of his real name sobers the Doctor up. “Okay. Alright, I believe that something happened, okay? Can’t say what, but if you’re this upset, it was something.”

 

Jim’s whole body slumps with relief.

 

“So it started with a distress call?”

 

He gives a shrug. “I guess? Or the meeting that the distress call interrupted.”

 

That gets Bones’ interest. “Meeting?”

 

“Yeah, the whole campus was there. Kind of a big deal. But it was announced pretty last minute.”

 

His friend smiles reassuringly at him. “Well Jim, there you go. No meeting today, not that I know of. That put you more at ease?”

 

It would have. It really would have. If it weren’t for the fact that just as Bones finishes speaking, their Comms chirp in sync. The two of them just stare at them for a moment, afraid to break the weird truce with the universe that McCoy had conjured with will alone.

 

“I bet you every credit to my name that I know what that says.”

 

And sure, all things considered, that joke wasn’t in the best taste. But sue him it was funny.

 

A little less funny when he opens it. Looks like he wins the bet.

 

Shit.


	2. Chapter 2

“So what’s was this meeting about in your dream, then?” There’s more than a little bit of worry in Bones’ voice now. There is a healthy touch of cynicism, which is for the best; if Leo started being nice Jim’s suspicions about actually being dead would start making even more sense.

 

Now wait just a damn minute. That idea has merit. Maybe Jim  _ is  _ dead. It is possible that the black hole sucked them in. Or the warp core did tear the hull of  _ The Enterprise  _ apart. Which kind of makes the most sense considering it was right after the warp core detonation that Q guy ( _ thing _ ) appeared.

 

The more Jim thinks about it, the more sense being dead makes. It makes a hell of a lot more sense than the biggest sense of déjà vu he’s ever experienced in his life.

 

Well, dead or not, he’ll play along. After all, you don't have a real chance to win a game you don’t even take part in. So he participates. He eats breakfast, brushes his teeth. He showers and dresses on autopilot. It’s not until that he and Bones are actually walking across campus that he starts to feel like a real person again.

 

Good thing, too, because that’s when Bones starts talking.

 

“It wasn’t a dream.”

 

“Fine. In your vision, then, what was it?”

 

Jim laughs, he can’t help it. “I’m getting suspended.”

 

“I don’t see what’s so funny about that.”

 

Neither does he.

 

*.*

 

It goes like it did last time. The hearing, his fight with Spock. The not very well thought-out plan to sneak him aboard. Everything goes exactly the same.

 

This is  _ beyond _ déjà vu.

 

Just like before he discovers a “new” allergy in the vaccine Bones gave him. Just like before he makes a run for it, bumping straight into Uhura. Just like before, he makes it to the bridge before anyone manages to do anything but slow him down.

 

And then there’s the fight with Pike, and round two of his debate with Spock, and he knows what’s coming he has to save them. He needs to save them, he’s not thinking he just says it.

 

“Sir, we are heading into an attack, the rest of the fleet is already gone --”

 

“It would not be possible for you to know the state of the entire fleet.” Spock, damn him, has to go ahead and remind them all of the logic of the situation.

 

“Damn logic, Spock, I’m trying to save your people!”

 

“Enough!” Pike cuts off what would have no doubt been yet another fantastic verbal sparring match. And he looks pissed. “Commander, go back to your duties.” The Vulcan obliges with nothing more than a stiff nod. “Kirk, head back to medical,  _ now  _ or it’s a court martial when we get home.”

 

No. This is not how it’s supposed to happen. This is not how it's meant to go. He’s supposed to convince Pike that he’s right: that there is danger waiting for them and they need to raise the shields. Bones grabs him by the arm and starts leading him back towards the turbolift.

 

“Dropping out of warp, sir,” Sulu informs Pike with utter professionalism.

 

The turbolift doors open as the realization jolts through Jim like lightning.  _ Their shields aren’t up. _

 

He goes to scream, but it’s already too late. There's light and heat and everything is moving too fast. People start screaming, then the sound rushes out of the bridge along with the air. Which makes sense, considering there's now a hole where the view screen once was.

 

Bones must have been holding onto something, because they don’t go flying into the vacuum of space. But whatever that grip was to, it wasn’t good enough. Only heartbeats after the hull breach, Jim’s free falling, clinging to Bones’ hand like his life depends on it.

 

Which it doesn’t there’s nothing that can help him, now, it’s  _ over.  _ All he can see is black and he’s cold, he’s so cold--

 

***Attempt 3***

 

His alarm clock is blaring again.

 

Jim heaves in a breath, lungs trembling from the force of the air that had ripped out of them. Which… considering that he’s lying here, in his own bed yet again, did not happen for real.

 

“What the actual fuck?”

 

Bones snorts from his place in the doorway. “Good morning to you too, sunshine.”

 

*.*

 

It can’t be happening again. One occurrence of the most intense deja vu ever recorded would be bad enough, but twice now? In a row?

 

It can’t be.

 

For the third time in a row, Jim goes through his own hearing. For the third time in a row, he gets smuggled onto the ship by his well-meaning best friend.

 

This time he’s ready. He figures that the amount of time Bones wastes (by trying to stop him and stab needles into his neck), might be enough to convince Pike that they need the shields. Maybe.

 

Either way, it’s worth a shot.

 

So when Jim comes to on the biobed, he doesn’t hesitate. He  _ goes. _ He bounds off of the gurney and is out of the doors almost the moment his feet hit the floor.

 

“Jim,  _ wait! _ ”

 

There’s a tone of desperation to McCoy’s voice, that if it weren’t for the situation, Jim would find almost funny. But he has to save the ship. There is no time to take pleasure in the fact that, for the first time in their entire friendship, Jim has managed to escape an angry Bones.

 

There’s always a silver lining.

 

On the down side, it’s getting really hard to breathe. Kirk's still a good five minute sprint from the bridge and he feels hot. Like really hot. Jim thinks that his mouth might be sweating, and up until a moment ago, he didn’t think that was even possible.

 

Two minutes till the bridge and he just can’t do it anymore. He just… The air is too heavy… it’s not…

 

***Attempt 4***

 

When his alarm wakes him yet again, Jim doesn’t panic. He doesn’t even scream.

 

No, he basks in the abhorrent stupidity he just displayed. In his rush to get to the bridge, he forgot exactly why Bones had been chasing after him in the first place.

 

Fuck his allergies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How long will it take Jim to figure out exactly what is going on? How many ways can he find to die in the same day? Stay tuned.


	3. Chapter 3

Jim wakes up at 0700. That much has not changed. And, assuming that the universe continues on it’s current course, the Hearing will be at 1230. With a half hour squared away for getting presentable and to the Hearing he has five hours. Only five measly hours between waking up and when he has to actually do things.

 

He can work with five hours.

 

*.*

 

By the time the meeting commences, Jim has gone and memorized the most efficient route to the bridge. This way, he can let Bones follow along and hypo him all the Doctor pleases. And still leaving plenty of time to convince Pike that they need to change plans while ensuring he  _ won’t  _ die via anaphylactic shock.

 

It’s a win-win.

 

And the best part it, it actually works. He gets to the bridge, still breathing. And then the fighting starts.

 

“Kirk you’re not cleared for duty!”

 

“Sir, I know, but this is important!”

 

“Cadet, off my bridge, we are having words later.”

 

“Captain, this cadet is trying to  _ save  _ the bridge.” That gets Pike’s attention. “We’re not answering a distress call, we’re heading into an attack.”

 

That gets Spock's attention. “Explain.”

 

And from there the script follows the route it did the first time. The time that they didn’t all die. With  _ one _ key exception.

 

“And how could you know about this alleged Romulan transmission, kid.” Pike is getting beyond annoyed at this point.

 

“Because Uhura--”

 

Oh. _ Shit. _

 

In his rush to get to the bridge as quick as possible, Jim forgot about what actually made them listen to him the first time. Not his crazy theory. But the fact that Uhura, a smart, level-headed woman, had the first hand data to back him up. Uhura, who is down in communications right now because the route that Jim took this time did not run past her station.

 

The devil is in the details, indeed.

 

***Attempt 5***

 

This time, when Jim wakes up, he isn’t messing around. He’s tired, decaffeinated, and has  _ literally  _ just died. So he slams down on his alarm clock so hard that he hears something inside it crack.

 

That doesn’t matter. It’ll have fixed itself tomorrow. Or today? He doesn't have the vocabulary.

 

But he knows someone that does.

 

Jim has never gotten out the door as fast as he does this morning. In fact, he gets out of the dorm so fast Bones has to jump out of his way more than once to avoid getting run over.

 

“Where’s the fire?”

 

“Nowhere yet.” Jim grabs a bagel of the counter and attempts to toe on his shoes at the same time. “Going to the library.”

 

McCoy frowns. “Little late for studying, isn't it? You had your test yesterday.”

 

He shrugs. “Better late than never.”

 

*.*

 

Contrary to popular belief, Jim likes the library. He’s got a thing for physical books. And while they are far outnumbered by databanks, they’re still there.

 

That being said, an hour long search of the print library conjures up nothing about a being or race called 'Q.' Nothing. Not even in mythology.

 

And yes, he did try spelling it phonetically. In multiple languages. Still, no luck.

 

The digital databases take less than ten minutes to tell him the same thing. He’s about to give up on all reason and start screaming in the courtyard when the Cadet across the table from him freezes with her cup of coffee halfway to her mouth.

 

Jim knows that kind of still. He starts screaming before he even turns around.

 

“WHAT DID YOU DO?”

 

Q is grinning at him. And Jim knows that grin. It’s the I-have-never-done-anything-wrong-and-you-can’t-prove-otherwise grin. He normally loves that grin. It’s a good weapon of mass deflection. Interesting to have it turned against him like that.

 

_ Is this how Bones feels all the time? _

 

“Now, now, Jimmy,” the man (being?) chides while waggling his finger. “We’re in a library, you should know better.”

 

Jim has never wanted to break someone’s nose with such ferocity as he does at this moment. But he needs an explanation. So he continues through gritted teeth. “My apologies, sir.”

 

“That’s more like it!” Q’s grin slides from false-innocence to genuine amusement. “Hoping to find me in a computer, Jim?”

 

Kirk was not aware that he was capable of a sigh as heavy as the one that leaves his body. “Can we skip the games? Please? And get straight to the part where you explain to me what it is you want?”

 

“Straight to the point, huh?” He pauses for a moment. “You’ve had a rough week, I’ll humor you. Walk with me.”

 

Not knowing what else to do but accept, Jim gets to his feet. The pair walk in silence for a while, starting on a looping trail around the grounds.

 

Suddenly, Q speaks. “I trust you’re familiar with the multiverse theory?”

 

“The fundamentals of it, yeah. Though after today, it becomes a little more than a theory, right?”

 

“Possibly. I don’t plan on this timeline continuing on it’s present course.”

 

That doesn’t sound ominous at all. “What do you mean?”

 

“Do you _ really _ want the truth?”

 

“That would be nice, yeah.”

 

Q snorts. “Alright. I don’t like your timeline, Kirk. In fact, I hate it. It’s bar far the worst timeline I have ever been to, and let me tell you, I’ve been  _ around. _ ”

 

Something about this mad man’s ramblings are starting to translate into standard. “Because of what happens to Vulcan?”

 

“Well…” The man gives a lazy shrug. “The Destruction of Vulcan is a domino. The first domino in a shitty domino chain that leads to so many bad choices and even shittier timelines... I can't even begin to explain.”

 

“So you need me to stop it? To make my universe less ‘shitty.’” Jim just used air quotes. At a being that can control time. Sometimes he hates himself.

 

“Precisely. So you’re going to keep playing this little game until you get it right.” A note of teasing enters his voice, “You already know the rules.”

 

“I can’t lose a planet. Or die. And then time moves forward?”

 

“Exactly.” Q stops walking.

 

Their on the sidewalk next to one of the fields that students seem to really like doing their homework on. The freeze-frame is surreal here. Hair held up in the air from where the wind swept it. A single frisbee caught mid-flight.

 

“And what if I can’t, Q? What if this never gets solved and I’m stuck here forever, living the same day over and over again?”

 

Q laughs at that. “No big deal. I’ll just try again with another you. There’s kind of an infinite supply of parallel universes to chose from.”

 

Jim goes to say something else. Something like how this is crazy, and probably impossible. Or how if Q is so omnipotent he should go and fix everything himself.

 

But before he can, Q snaps his fingers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Questions? Concerns?  
> Have my Tumblr:   
> freyja-not-freya


	4. Chapter 4

***Attempt 6***

 

For the first time in this fucked up week to end all weeks, Jim doesn’t wake in a start. Instead he wakes in a cold, steel sharp determination. His feet are on the floor without thought, throwing his clothes on by nothing more than muscle memory.

 

He has an idea. It’s crazy, but it might actually work. Like all good plans.

 

Kirk is storming past Bones before his roommate has the chance to so much as say good-morning. Jim is halfway across campus less than ten minutes after his conversation with Q ended. Or is it a few hours  _ before it began?  _ This time loop shit is weird.

 

Nonetheless, he makes great time, and barges into Pike’s office without any preamble.

 

“We need to send the fleet to Vulcan.”

 

Christopher, who only a moment prior had been trying to inhale a mug of coffee, looks up from his desk with a resigned sigh. “Kirk, what the hell?”

 

“I know I sound crazy.” Jim slides into the seat opposite the Captains desk. “Trust me, I am  _ aware. _ ”

 

“Then why say it?”

 

“Because it’s true, sir.” He leans forward, knowing full well the sick desperation in his eyes. He hopes that will be enough to convince Pike that something is actually wrong. “Vulcan is in danger. They need our help, and they need it now, sir.”

 

A bright panic flashes under Pike’s calm exterior. “Then why are you in my office instead of bringing this directly to High Command?”

 

Jim sighs. “Because I have no proof, sir. And I know they won't take my word for it. But they might take yours.”

 

Jim can see the indecision waring across Pike’s mind. On the one hand, if the threat is real, action must be taken. Pike would never be able to live with himself knowing that he could have acted and did not. On the other hand, if Jim was lying or just plain wrong, Chris would be responsible for launching the Fleet for no reason. He would be the man responsible for the waste of an incalculable amount of time. Not to mention resources. Oh, and diverting the entire workforce of the ‘Fleet into a pointless mission. Not to mention the political repercussions of an unwarranted mass of ships over Vulcan with no prior warning that might even be seen as a blockade.

 

Jim can see the debate going on in Pike’s mind. It’s not hard, it’s the obvious channels to run down. What Jim does not expect, is how quickly the Captain seems to come to a decision.

 

“I want to trust you, kid.”

 

Jim’s chest swells with fragile hope.

 

“But I just can’t.”

 

And there it goes. Hope shattered. That was fast. “But, sir--”

 

Pike sighs. “I wish I could, Jim. If we were having this conversation two days earlier, I probably would.”

 

“Then why don't you now?” Jim figures it almost as he asks the question. The hearing. He’s going to get held up by the damn  _ hearing _ ! Fuck.

 

“You’re going to find out in an hour or so anyway.” Pike heaves what might be the heaviest Pike Sigh  that Kirk has ever heard. “Kirk, you’ve got formal charges against you, on the books. I can't discuss it at the moment, but… I’m sure it is going to work out, okay?”

 

If this was truly the first time that Jim had heard that news he would have lost it. Unlike in the courtroom, surrounded by the masses of the people he hoped someday to command, in this quiet office, he could have yelled and screamed. He could have demanded to see the charges, prepared a better defense. But alas, this was not the first time and the shock had long worn off. In comparison to losing a planet, getting called a cheater is nothing. Less than nothing, even.

 

He doesn’t even blink.

 

“Okay, sir.”

 

Pike looks like he doesn’t know if he should be relieved or concerned that a Kirk is dropping something so easily.

 

“Can you do me one favor, though? I promise, it's not much.” Cue the batting of the eyelashes.

 

“What might that be?” There is a healthy note of caution in the Captain's voice. He’s learned much in the past three years of interaction with Jim. Which is a relief. If not, Jim would find himself full of concern for the intelligence of the chain of Command.

 

“Could you send me someone’s schedule? I need to talk to them about Vulcan, sir. A Commander Spock.”

 

Pike rolls his eyes. “Fine, Jim. Now get out of my office, and I’ll send his  _ public class schedule  _ along.”

 

“Thank you, Captain!” Jim bolts from the room so fast he almost forgets to salute. When his Communicator chimes with the file from Pike, his mouth sets into a determined grimace. Looks like he needs to convince Spock to drop the charges against him. In the next three hours, too. Otherwise he’s going to have to start over.

 

Again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the hiatus everyone. NaNo kicked my ass. But I'm back and ready to hit the ground running with this one, so enjoy.


	5. Chapter 5

According to the ever so handy schedule that he received from Captain Pike, Jim has to intercept Spock at 0845 as he leaves his first morning lecture. His next engagement isn’t until 1015, which will give Jim plenty of time to convince him to drop the charges.

 

Or something.

 

If it weren’t for the time loop, this would be easy. Spock might not have liked him by the end of the whole Nero fiasco, but he trusted him at least. Now though, with the day reset, Jim is nothing more than some random Cadet who also happens to be charged with intentionally breaking the Vulcans precious test.

 

This might not go so well. But still, Jim has to try.

 

He finds the classroom, and leans against the wall. The class isn’t scheduled to end for another five minutes and Spock is not the kind of guy to have mercy on his students. No. He’s definitely the kind of guy to release them at exactly the scheduled time, down to the second.

 

Unsurprisingly, Jim was right. At 0845 on the dot, students come streaming out of the door. Surprisingly, one of them is Uhura.

 

Isn’t there some regulation against teachers and students dating? Jim is pretty damn sure there is. And that kiss on the transporter pad was definitely not platonic.

 

Huh.

 

Not so uptight after all, then.

 

The thought of using that as leverage briefly flits through Jim’s mind. But it’s not a long-lived idea. Uhura is a good officer, and she does not deserve something as terrible as a sex scandal at the start of her career. Not to mention the fact that using his relationship as leverage would certainly put a stop to that whole ‘friendship that will define them both’ thing that Old Spock was talking about.

 

So best not. He’ll start by approaching this like a reasonable person. Pike will be so proud.

  
  


*.*

  
  


When Spock exits the classroom a few moments after the flood of students trickles to a stop, Jim darts after him. Even though he has nowhere he actually needs to be, the Vulcan still walks with a brisk determination that Jim needs to work to keep pace with.

 

“Commander, I need to talk to you.”

 

Without breaking stride, Spock glances at him briefly. “What may I do for you, Cadet?”

 

Just be direct, Jim. Vulcans like that. “I need you to drop the charges against me and accompany me to High Command so I can report a terrorist threat to the planet Vulcan.”

 

Spock stops dead in his track, turning to level him with a completely blank stare. In his entire life, Jim has never been less able to read a person.

 

“Where did you come by your information for this threat?”

 

“It’s a really long story Commander, and frankly, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” 

 

Kirk is banking a lot on Spock’s willingness to believe him at face value. And considering how much he trusted him at the start of their adventure the first time, it’s not much to put hope in.

 

“Try me.”

 

“Okay.” Here goes nothing, “I’m caught in a time loop sustained by an interdimensional being going by the name of Q, I’ve been living this day over and over again, and no matter what I do, a Romulan from the future destroys the entire planet of Vulcan. By the time the distress call comes in, it’s always too late to stop it. Spock,  _ billions  _ of people die.”

 

As he talks, the Commander maintains his neutral expression somehow, only his eyebrows betraying him, climbing ever higher upon his forehead as Jim continues.

 

“If we act now, we have a chance. If we wait any longer, Vulcan  _ will be lost,  _ sir. And I can’t just sit here and watch it happen again. Not when we ca do something about it.”

 

With impressive calm, Spock finally replies, “There is no recorded instance of a sustained time loop in Federation records, nor any scientific way to ascertain that you are indeed telling me the truth.”

 

“Spock, we’re talking about your  _ planet,  _ your  _ people _ !” 

 

“So you say.”

 

“Isn’t their safety worth the risk of you being wrong?”

 

There’s a moment's pause. “Surely you have some form of evidence to substantiate your claim?”

 

Jim is probably going to regret this. “You’re romantically involved with Nyota Uhura. I know this because I saw it, later today. We’re all about to die and she kisses you, sir.”

 

Somehow the Commander’s gaze gets colder. “I will not be blackmailed, Cadet.”

 

Shit. “It’s not blackmail, sir. I’m just saying that I know something I should have no way of knowing, just as I know that your mother is a Human named Amanda Grayson, your father is Ambassador Sarek, and that you never had any ambition of Command.”

 

Spock blinks at that. Actually blinks in shock. “Where did you ascertain this knowledge?”

 

“I told you, I’m in a loop. I’ve learned a lot.”  _ That and we’ve technically melded. _

 

“I see.”

 

“Please, Spock. I need you to trust me. What do I gain by making this up?”

 

“Nothing.” He seems surprised to come to that conclusion. “Very well. I shall look into the matter.”

 

He stalks off, not really giving Jim a chance to reply. Kirk wants to run after him, to yell. To… something. But it’s no use. He’s already lost this round. Might as well just try again tomorrow.

 

Sighing, he walks to the nearest window. It’s open, letting the cool spring breeze filter into the building. He’s eight floors up, the ground a distant, far away thing.

 

_ Die, try again. _

 

The screen isn’t that hard to lift.

  
  


***Attempt 7***

  
  


For some unknown reason, Spock doesn’t even stop in the hallway this time. The entire day is pointless. Jim had spent all of his energy on coming up with a convincing way to push the conversation, he had left no room in his plan for failure.

 

Shit.

 

On the plus side, hitting the pavement is a much better way to die than anaphylactic shock.

  
  


***Attempt 8***

  
  


Failure. Once again, dismal failure.

 

It might be time for a change of tactics.

 

Jim wonders how many days it will take him to learn Vulcan.


	6. Chapter 6

***Attmept 12***

  
  


As it turns out, Vulcan is a really hard language. Jim has spent the past three days doing nothing but trying to learn enough to hold the exact conversation he needs to have with Spock. Without making a complete idiot of himself. And the thing is, Jim is good with languages. Like,  _ really _ good.

 

He was one of the officers in his High School’s Xenolinguistics club. (Said office was treasury, but still. He knew his shit.)

 

The problem is that, as a language, Vulcan makes no sense. Zip. Zero. Zilch. For such a logical species one would think they would at least have a nicely structured medium of communication. But no.

 

The language must have developed Pre-Surak. Which... now that is an interesting train of thought that Jim is definitely talking to Spock about when they’re friends again. In the meantime, it’s nothing but studying this stupid illogical language of illogic until he just blinks and ends up back in his bed at 0700.

 

Oh yeah,  _ that _ is a trip. At the same time every day, everything just resets. It’s pretty safe for Kirk to assume that is the moment Vulcan goes boom.

 

_ Lose a planet, try again. _

 

But after three days of non-stop effort, (and so much coffee Jim’s forgotten what food other than coffee tastes like) he is seeming to make some progress. All the  _ nuhm  _ are starting to make sense at least.

 

When his communicator chimes to announce his hearing that he totally doesn’t know about yet, Jim ignores it. When Bones comes into his room to ask him if he also got the weird memo and was attending said mandatory assembly, Jim says, “Yeah Bones. But you go on ahead, I’ll catch up.”

 

He just pushes and pushes, trying to make enough sense of a language to discuss a topic he barely understands with a native speaker who actively hates his guts at this moment in time. Trying with all of his might to ignore the fact that every time the day resets and he wakes up in his bed means another day that he failed.

 

Another day where a planet is destroyed in the largest act of genocide in Federation history. Another day where his best friend and the crew that, in a different universe, becomes something more than family to him die needlessly. His meld with the Older Spock showed him that much. If Jim manages to get this right, that bridge full of scary geniuses will be  _ his  _ scary geniuses.

 

And Jim wants that. He really wants that.

 

The fate of an entire species is at stake here. And if he doesn’t get this right, he might as well be responsible.

 

Ah well. He’ll get there eventually.

  
  


***Attempt 16***

  
  


Jim opens his eyes and knows today is the day. The day he’s been putting off for over a week. He’s going to need help with the pronunciation. And there is only one person he knows who would be able to get it across to him as quickly as he needs.

 

Uhura.

 

He has to talk to Uhura.

 

The good news is, he knows exactly where to find her.

  
  


*.*

  
  


“Uhura. Uhura!”

 

He bolts after her as she leaves the classroom. Unlike Spock, she has the common courtesy to allow the person calling after to catch up.

 

“What do you want, Kirk?”

 

“You speak Vulcan, right?”

 

That catches her off guard. This is clearly not the route she was expecting this conversation to go down. “I do, why?”

 

Here goes. “Bolaya gol-tor nash-veh.”

 

Her eyes go wide, valiantly trying to hide her shock she replies, “Vuhlkansu stariben du?”

 

Huh. Maybe this won’t be so hard. “I’m trying to learn. And I get the basics, I’m just having trouble with--”

 

“Your soft consonants?”

 

Is Jim hallucinating or is there humor there? He gives her a slightly embarrassed smile. “That bad, huh?”

 

Nyota laughs. “I’ve heard worse. It’s salvageable, that’s for sure. I have a free hour, if you want to work on it now?”

 

Jim’s smile becomes genuine. “That would be amazing, yeah.”

 

“Alright. Meet me in the cafe downstairs, I need coffee before I talk to you for longer than a minute straight.”

 

“That’s fair.”

 

*.*

  
  


Uhura, as it turns out, is an awesome teacher. She’s surprisingly patient with him, laughing at awkward trips of his tongue, and encouraging him though phrases that make him want to bash his head against the wall.

 

It’s only after about forty minutes of dedicated practice that she makes any sort of remark on how much she sees him as a pile of human garbage.

 

“You know Kirk, you are the last person I expected to be tutoring.”

 

Jim scoffs. “Because I’m a dumb hick, right.”

 

“What?” Uhura actually looks hurt. Huh. Maybe she doesn’t think he’s a rolling dumpster fire of a person after all. “No! You’re just not the kind of person to ask for help, you know?”

 

Yeah, Jim is very much aware.

 

“Well, this has been fun, but I have another class to get to.” Nyota stands, collecting her bag from the seat next to her. “Want to do this again tomorrow?”

 

Jim blinks in surprise. “Wait, really?”

 

She shrugs. “Why not? You need the help, I’ve got the time.”

 

Now this is a surprise. “Sounds good.”

 

“Cool. Same time tomorrow, Kirk.”

 

And with that, she’s gone, off to the last academy class she will ever attend, though she doesn’t know it yet. 

 

He checks the time, sighing as he does so. Only three hours left until reset.

 

Back to the books.

  
  


***Attempt 27***

  
  


“I really do not know what you need my help for, Kirk.” Uhura tells him in flawless Vulcan ten minutes into this day’s study session. “You are doing quite well on your own.”

 

“I know.” And she’s right that he’s doing well. The stiff language is starting to flow more naturally. “Yet you are the best linguist I know. I assumed it wouldn’t hurt to ask for some help.”

 

Nyota laughs, switching back to English, “I’ll take the compliment, thanks. Though I doubt it’s warranted.”

 

“No, I’m serious, Uhura.” Jim doesn’t know why he says that. It just sort of… happens.

 

She purses her lips consideringly, taking a moment to reply. “It’s Nyota.”

 

Holy shit. Stay calm, Jim, don’t freak out.

 

A grin spits across his face of its own volition. “Jim,” he offers, sticking out a hand across the table.

 

“Nice to meet you, Jim.” she takes his hand, laughing.

 

“And you too,  _ Nyota _ .”

 

They grin at each other for a moment, Jim caught in how natural this feels, how easy this budding friendship could become. In this moment, it’s all too easy to picture a future of him and Nyota sharing coffee and languages as a regular routine. Of him making her laugh not with disdain, but genuine joy.

 

_ It would be nice to be your friend _ , Jim thinks.

 

It’s a shame this will all be gone in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation:  
> Bolaya gol-tor nash-veh: I need help.  
> Vuhlkansu stariben du?: You speak Vulcan?


	7. Chapter 7

***Attempt 32***

  
  


Today’s the day. The sun is shining, Vulcan hasn’t imploded yet, and Jim is ready to attempt talking to Spock again.

 

He’s out front of his class room ten minutes earlier than he needs to be, practically vibrating with nervous energy. Finally, after a month of nothing, he’s going to try to make real progress.

 

When the class lets out, it takes all of Jim’s strength not to try to talk to Nyota. The past two weeks have been fun. Weird, but fun. He hopes they can get a friendship that she’ll remember too, one day.

 

The moment Spock exits the room, Jim calls in his shiny new Vulcan, “Spock, I need to speak with you.”

 

For the first time, Spock stops in his tracks and turns to face him. “I am listening, Cadet.”

 

It’s working. Yay. “Can we speak in private?” Jim gestures to the newly vacated classroom.

 

“Very well.”

 

As Spock holds the door open for Jim to go through, it’s all he can do not to laugh. It’s working. The plan is actually working. Now he has his attention, all he needs to do is convince him.

 

The room is a big lecture hall, a board down at the front, theater stil seats rising in stepped flats up to the door. Jim doesn’t really see the need to climb down all those steps, choosing instead to just move away from the door slightly.

 

When the door clicks shut behind Spock, Jim doesn’t hesitate. “Commander, the Federation is in danger. An attack is imminent, and Vulcan and Earth are both in immediate danger.”

 

Spock tilts his head slightly, considering. “What is the nature of this threat?”

 

It’s funny how switching languages can make a conversation go so much smoother. “A Romulan from the future named Nero. And before you say anything, I know it sounds like madness, but I swear to you, I am telling the truth.”

 

The Vulcan considers, only a slight twitch in the corner of his mouth betraying his internal debate. And then he says the last thing that Jim expects Mr. Logic to ever say to him.

 

“Show me.”

 

“I’m sorry?”

 

“Share with me your thoughts.”

 

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Does Jim try to explain the loop? If he does, Spock will think he’s crazy. If he doesn’t, this meld will be really shocking for him.

 

Spock arches an eyebrow. “If lives are truly at risk, you should have no protest.”

 

_ And he’s got you there, Kirk.  _ “Okay. Let’s do this.”

  
  


*.*

  
  


The mind meld is… intense. The first one, the one with the Old Spock taught him the basics, but it’s still a little hard to grasp the mechanics. Basically what Jim’s got thus far is that he needs to think about what he wants to show and the rest will just sort of… happen.

 

So he lets the damn break. He thinks about Vulcan, and the memories come. He can feel the terror from Spock’s mind rising as the planet implodes. The memory flows into their fight on the bridge, which is not what Jim wants at all. He wants the guy to trust him, not want to maroon him on an ice planet again. Fast forwarding clumsily he brings them to Delta Vega, pulling through the fear that the chase from the snow demon calls from, surprisingly, both of them.

 

_ We are of one mind, one thought.  _ Spock’s voice floats over the memory,  _ It is only logical that I should fear for our life. _

 

_ Fair enough. _

 

And oh, it’s so cold here, even in a memory they can feel the bite of the wind, taste the sharpness of the air. It’s a relief to throw themselves into the cave where they meet old Spock.

 

And from there, it’s all kind of out of Jim’s control. He pushes through the memory of that meld the best he can, warnings of universe ending events from every time travel book he’s ever read sounding like alarm bells. Under no circumstances should people see themselves from the future, says Jim’s nerd brain.

 

But they survive the memory, somehow, pushing forward to their proper, physical fight on the bridge, Spock’s relinquishment of Command, and Jim’s completely psychotic plan. And the Q, that little shit shows up, and upon the first reset, Jim all but yells into their minds,  _ That’s enough, stop! _

 

The meld breaks apart, leaving Jim panting and Spock’s eyes slightly glazed over.

 

“So do you believe me now?” With his mind reeling from the sudden separation, Jim can manage speaking in nothing other than English.

 

“I would be a fool not to.”

 

Jim can’t help it. He just laughs. In fact, he’s helpless to do anything but laugh with such force that his knees buckle and he falls to the floor.

 

“I fail to see the humor in this situation.”

 

“It’s a relieved laugh, Spock.”

 

“I see.”

  
  


*.*

  
  


The first thing Jim notices is that he and Spock seem to have an entirely different approach to this problem. “Now, since the day resets in the event of your failure, it is only logical to accept said failure in order to formulate a better plan.”

 

They’ve moved into the nearest seats. It only took Jim about three minutes to fill him in only the details that the meld didn’t make clear. Kirk has been in a lounged pose, but straightened up quickly at that. “I’m sorry, what?”

 

The Vulcan tilts his head slightly. “This day is clearly not going to be the one in which you defeat Nero. You have neither the time nor the resources.”

 

“So what do you suggest?”

 

“We plan.” Spock heaves an surprisingly heavy sigh. “Though it will be a considerable challenge to create a plan of this magnitude and intricacy with no memory of previous planning sessions or failed attempts.”

 

Jim can’t help it. He grins.

 

“I fail to see what could be so amusing.”

 

“Spock, you’re a telepath. And I’ll remember everything. We can do this.”

 

“It would not be impossible,” he admits. “Very well. Starting tomorrow, however, you need to start earlier. What time do you wake up?”

 

“0700.”

 

“I leave my apartment at 0715. If you can intercept me there, we will have a head start.”

 

So Jim gets Spock’s address, and has to repeat it back to him like twelve times. Which is a little annoying, but at least now Jim definitely won’t forget it.

 

And then they get to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Questions? Concerns? Want to just yell at me about Star Trek?  
> freyja-not-freya.tumblr.com


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are ya'll ready for Gaila?

***Attempt 54***

  
  


“Spock, no possible phrasing we have come up with has gotten Pike to sound the alarm in time. I think it’s time to try another way.”

 

The Vulcan purses his lips slightly, posture stiff while sitting at his own kitchen table. Which is to be expected. Considering the fact that there is a strange human rifling through the cabinets of said kitchen with unnatural familiarity as tea is produced for both of them as Spock tries to process the data he just absorbed in the meld.

 

That’s been Jim’s daily routine lately: get up, get to Spock’s, convince him to meld as fast as possible, and then make them both tea while Spock processes and blinks rapidly like a crashing android.

 

It’s kind of cute. In a kitten-stuck-in-a-tree kind of way.

 

Though, to the Commander’s credit, he usually gets himself together rather quickly.

 

“So what do you suggest?”

 

“We trip the alarm ourselves. Or rather, I do it.” Jim can see the shock behind Spock’s eyes. All these mind melds are making reading the guy’s microexpressions ridiculously easy.

 

“You plan to do this how?”

 

“Easy. All I need to do is create a fake distress signal, and then trip the system into accepting it as coming from Vulcan.”

 

The amount of stress in Spock’s frame in almost comical. “I’m not sure that ‘easy’ is the right word.”

 

“Eh, it’ll be fine. Besides, how hard can it be?”

  
  


***Attempt 79***

  
  


Apparently hard. Like, really, really hard. 

 

See, Jim is good with computers. Not the best, sure, but pretty good. The problem is, that he  _ needs  _ the best. So he has to what he did the last time, on the  _ Kobayashi Maru.  _

 

He has to go to Gaila.

  
  


*.*

  
  


Gaila and Jim have been friends for almost two years now, which is great. She’s an awesome person who he has awesome platonic sex with. The problem is, that she said something not-so-platonic to him the last time he saw her and he kind of failed to handle that situation properly.

 

Jim might not be the most in touch guy when it comes to feelings, but he knows when he’s being a total dick. And that? That was a  _ hugely _ dickish move.

 

So he gets up and properly showered for the first time in over a week. (Running out the door every morning in time to head off Spock before he leaves his apartment doesn’t really leave enough time to feel like a person.) He even takes the time to have breakfast with Bones, which he really did not even comprehend how much he missed until he is there having it again.

 

The doctor sits in silence on the couch, clutching coffee like a life line until Jim deposits a plate of pancakes on the coffee table in front of him. Bones grunts in thanks, finally taking a sip from his mug as Jim folds himself onto the other end of the couch, his own plate in hand. Jim wonders if Bones remembers to eat breakfast on all the loops he’s left alone without barely a word.

 

Probably not. Which is ironic seeing how many lectures Jim gets about balancing his diet.

 

Considering how talkative Jim and Leonard are as people, early mornings are surprisingly quiet. It’s nice.

 

“Clinic hours today?”

 

“No,” Bones places his mug on the table, scooping up the plate of food in its place. “Day off, finally. I’m coming back early and going to bed.”

 

Jim smiles. “That sounds nice.”

 

“It does, doesn’t it? So if you keep me up past nine tonight, I swear I’ll kill you.”

 

_ Oh Bones, if only you knew.  _ “Don’t worry, I’ll be nowhere near this place by nine.”

 

“Good.”

  
  


*.*

  
  


He gets to Gaila’s room by 0830. He knows by now that Uhura won’t get here until 0915 at the earliest, what with her class schedule (that he knows know) and her crippling caffeine addiction, and the distance of the walk. This means that if he gets this right, there is a real possibility of him getting Gaila to not only be not mad at him, but to get a little bit of work done on the signal before Nyota arrives.

 

Of course, that assumes that Gaila actually will forgive him. Or listen to him in the first place. Or even be willing to help him with yet another illegal project. In short, a lot was riding on the fact that Gaila is an awesome friend beyond what Jim deserves.

 

He knocks on her door, and at first there is no response. Which makes sense, of course. Gaila is a bit of a night owl, and she has no reason to be up yet. He tries again.

 

“Gaila.” He knocks harder. “Gaila, it’s Jim, open up.”

 

The door swings open with force, and there she is. If her appearance is anything to go by, he has definitely just woken her up. Her red curls are awkwardly bunched in places, a few locks trying their best to stick straight up into the air. Here only visible article of clothing in a loose fitting black tee, falling to her mid thigh. Which, hang on a minute…

 

“Is that my shirt?”

 

She snorts, walking back into her rooms, leaving the door open for him. “What do you want, Kirk?”

 

“Kirk, huh? Am I really in that much trouble?”

 

Gaila’s only response is to level him with a glare.

 

“Okay, that’s fair.”

 

She bounces down onto her bed, legs and arms both crossing as she delivers a rather impressively disappointed expression. “Go on, then.”

 

Better just cut straight to it. “I’m sorry. What I did… or what I failed to do, it wasn’t cool.”

 

Gaila lets out a short huff. “Not cool? Yeah, no shit.”

 

“And I know that. But, in my defense, you caught me off guard, and then Uhura came in. I really didn’t have the chance to talk to you about it, you know?”

 

“No, I guess you didn’t.” She softens slightly.

 

“Let me try again?”

 

At this point she’s clearly putting effort into looking pissed at him. “You have one chance.”

 

“Okay, well, the truth is…”  _ Out with it _ . “I don’t love you Gaila. I mean, I  _ do _ , but not like that. Not in the way you meant. And I don’t think I ever will. I’m sorry.”

 

There are ten seconds of horrifying silence.

 

And then she smiles. “Okay, Jim. I forgive you for being a dick.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

She shrugs. “Eh, you’re like a puppy. I can’t stay mad too long.”

 

“So would it be okay if I ask you for a favor?”

 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” She’s leveling him with a poker face now and it’s frightening. And then the corner of her mouth twitches. A moment later she’s fighting down a smile. By some unspoken cue they both start to laugh. “I can’t believe you Jim.”

 

“You love me.”

 

“Yeah,” she shakes her head, grinning. “Okay, you got me. What do you need?”


	9. Chapter 9

***Attempt 84***

  
  


“This is some really sophisticated code you brought me, Jim.” Gaila leans sideways to rest against his side, giving him a better view of her PADD. This has been Jim’s new daily routine. He gets up, copies everything he can remember from their previous coding sessions onto his PADD, goes to Gaila’s, apologizes for the ‘I Love You’ incident, and then shows her the code and lets her get to work.

 

Somehow they always end up on her bed, backs against her headboard as she leches his body heat and fixes his code.

 

She’s really good at this. Like, horrifyingly good. The only thing slowing her down is that Jim can only write down what her remembers. It’s not like this little sadistic game that he’s trapped in allows him to bring things from one day to the next. Which would be really useful considering that he can’t memorize this much code.

 

He’s spent the past five days trying.

 

“It’s just got a surprising amount of holes in it.”

 

“Yeah. I kind of wrote it half asleep.”

 

Not entirely a lie.

 

“And what is this for? I mean, it’s clearly an override of some kind, but of what?”

 

“The Federation’s signal location system.”

 

Silence.

 

More silence.

 

“Do I want to know?”

 

“Probably not.”

 

And Gaila, bless her, she just leaves it at that.

  
  


***Attempt 92***

  
  


Gaila is a genius. A honest, certifiable genius.  The code is essentially finished. The only thing left to do is fabricate the distress call itself, which Jim can do on his own no problem. It was the embedding signal he couldn’t work around and Gaila has done so beautifully.

 

The only problem is that now he has absolutely no hope of memorizing the completed structure. It’s just not possible. Not even a Vulcan could memorize these many digits.

 

Speaking of Vulcans… He misses Spock. Which is weird. Very weird. Why in the world would he be missing Spock? The guy is nice enough, sure. And yeah, they did kind of go through a huge traumatic experience together. And okay, Jim’s mind was getting pretty buddy-buddy with his telepathy for a while there. But… 

 

But…

 

He’s got nothing.

 

Shit, he misses Spock.

 

Jim honestly has no idea what to do with this information.

 

The good news is, a few more days of rewriting with Gaila and he’ll be ready to move on with the plan.

  
  


***Attempt 96***

  
  


Jim gets across campus to Spock’s apartment in record time this morning. He pounds on the door with open enthusiasm.

 

“Spock, I think it’s ready!”

 

The Vulcan opens the door, and while he is doing a great job of portraying calm, Jim can see just how freaked out Spock is. It’s in the slightly too stiff shoulders, in the minute pinch of his eyes.

 

Jim forgot for a minute there. Spock doesn’t remember.

 

“Shit, Commander. I’m so sorry.”

 

“What is the cause of the commotion, Cadet?”

 

Thank god Spock gave him a cheat code for this almost fifty loops ago. A little rusty from lack of use, he ventures in Vulcan, “When I go through the looking glass, I will tell Sybok hello.”

 

Just like every time prior, Spock actually blinks in shock. “What do you mean by… how do you know of Sybok?”

 

“Let me share with you my thoughts, and you shall see.”

 

Spock nods sharply, gesturing him in. Almost the second the door is closed, Spock has his hands up to his psi-points. And then they are one.

 

Unlike the first time, Jim knows what he’s doing. In fact, he just keeps getting better and better at this whole mind meld thing. It’s easy at this point to just show Spock only what he wants him to see.  

 

Nero, Vulcan, the Battle of the Narada. Easy. And Jim can feel Spock’s confusion eating away at them both so he changes tactics. He pulls up Q, the beginning of the loop. He shows him their morning routine from when Jim was here every day. He shows him Spock himself, giving Jim that weird as hell sentence to go from zero to mind meld, and get there fast.

 

_ “How long on average does it take you convince me to meld?” asks the Spock in the memory. _

 

_ “It varies,” the memory of Jim’s voice responds. “I got you in five minutes once. Worst was about twenty, I almost gave up that time.” _

 

_ “It is logical to give you a… shortcut, if you will.” _

 

_ “Oh?” _

 

_ “Yes. Something that will grab my attention enough that I will accept your offer to meld the moment it is offered.” _

 

_ “And if it doesn’t work?” _

 

_ “I shall simply give you a new phrase to try.” _

 

Understanding passes through their consciousness as Spock grasps that Jim wasn’t really spouting one of his deep dark secrets, but rather just using a code that he himself had already agreed upon.  _ Well, that certainly did get my attention,  _ Spock thinks through their minds and is that hunor Jim detects?

 

Now he really gets him up to speed. He shows him the plan, and Jim’s memory of the code that Gaila wrote. And then he pushes away as hard as he can and the meld collapses.

 

Like all the other times that Jim has played this game, Spock goes and assumes his position at the kitchen table, clearly trying to process. Which is fine, Jim will give him a minute. He has to try to type the code up anyway.

 

So Jim collects Spock’s PADD from the kitchen counter, types in the passcode that he learned ages ago, and settles in the chair across from his existential-crisis-having friend.

  
  


*.*

  
  


Jim is about three quarters of the way into typing up the code when Spock reboots as a person.

 

“I do not believe this idea of yours has been entirely thought through.”

 

“And he’s back,” Jim mutters to himself before replying properly, “Spock I’ve had plenty of time to think about this. Trust me.”

 

“How long?”

 

Jim sighs, sets the PADD down and looks him straight in the eye. “Spock, we have melded 23 times. Do you get that? That’s how many days we spent trying to come up with a plan to save Vulcan, and this is the best that we’ve got at the moment. So unless you have a better idea, stop criticizing the one we have and  _ help me _ .”

 

The Vulcan shifts back slightly in shock. “We have melded 23 times?”

 

“That’s what I said.”

 

Some sort of debate passes across Spock’s face. What it pertains to, Jim has no idea. But going by how concerned the vibe Spock is giving off is, JIm really hopes he hasn’t somehow fucked the fabric of the universe. Again.

 

Eventually, the Commander sighs. “Never mind. How may I help?”

 

Jim hands the PADD across the table. This is what I can remember of Gaila’s work, along with the holes I can fill on my own with my own coding. Spell check me?”

 

“Very well.”

 

“Awesome.” Jim checks the time. 0756. Shit, they were in the meld for a while today.

 

“And then?” Spock asks without looking up from the work he’s already started.

 

“And then you, Mr. Faculty, are going to plug this into the Communications array in HQ.”

 

There’s a beat of silence. And then Spock says, with an almost impressive level of calm, “You are insane.”

 

Jim can do nothing but grin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *1980's cartoon voice over*   
> "Will Jim's plan work? Can Vulcan be saved?  
> Tune in next time to find out"


	10. Chapter 10

They finish around 0830. Which is really impressive, honestly.

 

“What is the plan after the message is sent?”

 

“No idea,” answers Jim, getting up from the table. “This is the first try, so I figure it’s best if we just play along with whatever Command does. Think of it as recon: If it fails, we try again.”

 

Spock seems to find that logical enough. “And if this plan of yours works?”

 

Jim smiles with the most genuine joy he’s felt in a long time as something insidiously close to hope sparks through his chest.

 

“Then I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  
  


*.*

  
  


They leave Spock’s apartment together. Jim, back to his room to get ready, as Spock heads over to HQ to commit mutiny.

 

Not knowing the situation with security over in communications, they didn’t really come up with a specific plan beyond getting the signal into the system as quickly as possible. Ideally, Spock will be able to describe it to him so the next attempt can be better planed. If there is a next attempt. Jim’s kind of starting to think positively. Which is a nice change from the past three months of monotony.

 

At 0905, the alarms go off, just as Jim is sitting down on his couch to pull on his shoes.

 

_ Way to go, Spock. _

 

“What the fuck is going on?” Bones screams over the sirens, storming out of the bathroom brandishing a toothbrush wildly about. Probably for emphasis.

 

“No idea,” Jim lies,practically bouncing off of the sofa. “But we better get to the hangar, sounds like an all-hands kind of situation.”

 

“Fuck.” Bones storms back into the bathroom, basically slamming the door shut behind him, grumbling inaudibly to himself as he goes.

 

“Hurry it up, Sunshine!”

 

One of these days, Bones is going to kill him. 

  
  


*.*

  
  


There was this one little problem that Jim, in all the excitement, had completely forgotten about. That is the fact that is he officially grounded pending the results of the damn hearing. How could he forget that? It’s kind of a major detail in this whole operation and the reason that he started trying to talk to Spock in the first place.

 

He just got caught up on the euphoria of having a teammate and the greater plan of Operation Save Vulcan.

 

So when the Yeoman giving out assignments tells him he’s grounded, Jim wants to scream. An entire day wasted. No one is going to listen to him the way he needs them to if he doesn’t have the clearance to be there, Jim learned that the hard way way back in the beginning of this mess.

 

Alright, one more try.

 

There’s got to be something lethal in that medical station Bones drugged him in before.

  
  


***Attempt 97***

  
  


This time, when Spock’s brain reboots after the meld, the first thing out of Jim’s mouth is, “You need to drop the charges.”

 

“Which charges?”

 

Really? “Against me, dude. For cheating? On your test?”

 

Spock raises an eyebrow. “I hardly think that is relevant at the moment.”

 

Jim barks a harsh laugh. “Its super relevant. Honestly a little too relevant. It's really annoying actually.”

 

Spock gives him a ‘humans are weird and I’m so glad I’m not one them’ stare. Apparently Jim can tell his stares apart now. Neat.

 

“When exactly am I meant to do this, considering the plan relies entirely on speed?”

 

Good question. “Why don’t you… umm…”

 

“Furthermore, how precisely do you expect to get this transmission out?”

 

“That’s it!” Everything just clicks together. “You were going to go to HQ anyway to plant it--”

 

“--Are you sure--”

 

“--We had this argument already, I won, just go along. Anyway, since you’ll be there already, just go and drop the charges against me on your way to Communications. It’ll slow you down by what? Twenty minutes tops.”

 

He can tell that there is a lot that Spock wants to say on the subject. Like a lot. But luckily for him, Spock seems to see the illogic in wasting time by debating about wasting time. So they get to work.

  
  


*.*

  
  


It works like a charm. Jim is assigned to some pointless post, but he’s assigned, and to   _ The Enterprise,  _ too. 

 

This is the best start to the mission yet. Go team.

 

The message Jim sent explicitly stated possible attack, so the fleet should be okay this time. There should be no ships warping into a warzone without their shield, no pointless casualties that could have been so easily avoided.

 

Whether or not this will work is a mystery still, but at least the ‘Fleet, and Vulcan, has a fighting chance now.

 

Jim just has to see if it’s enough.


	11. Chapter 11

Every instinct that Jim has is screaming at him to get to the bridge, to run into the center of the crisis and try to resolve everything himself. After all, that is what worked the first time. That, and he highly doubts the Q would have chosen him to be the center of a massive universe reset if he was supposed to just sit idly by on the sidelines.

 

But if the past few months have taught him anything, it’s patience. So he’s just going to have to man his post, ride it out, and see what Starfleet’s best and brightest can do on their own now that they have been given a head start.

 

Chekov’s voice goes over the intercom, but Jim doesn’t really listen. He knows the briefing the crew is getting right now. He sort of wrote it himself.

 

It’s not until the ship drops out of warp that things get interesting. The red alert flairs to life, a deep shaking impact shakes the ship and a section of the wall next to him rips open.

 

Not Jim’s favorite way to die.

  
  


***Attempt 114***

  
  


It’s not working. No matter what decisions Command makes, not matter how the battle unfolds, Jim always ends up dying before any sort of resolution to the crisis on Vulcan can be reached.

 

The section of the ship he’s in explodes. Or the shuttle gets hit. On one memorable occasion, an airlock just… malfunctions. New ships always have a few bugs (a fact the Kirk has academically known most of his life, but was not exactly thrilled to experience first hand).

 

The good news is, all these failed attempts are definitely teaching Jim a thing or two about what not to do. If only one thing could go right, then he would consider this progress. But alas, it’s nothing but die, try again. Lather, rinse, repeat.

 

So far, the only thing that he’s learned is that while Pike might be an all around awesome guy, he’s clearly not able to keep  _ The Enterprise  _ from exploding without Jim’s interference. At least not on this day, not with this mission.

 

Alright, then. Time to interfere.

  
  


***Attempt 115***

  
  


“I fail to see how a mutiny on a ship midwarp into a warzone would bring about any positive result.”

 

Of course he doesn’t.

 

“Listen, Spock…” Jim takes a deep breath, sliding into his chair across from the Vulcan in his kitchen. “This isn’t working.”

 

Spock furrows his eyebrows slightly. “Precisely which area of the plan is inadequate?”

 

Jim honestly is not sure whether the little oblivious act the Commander is pulling is annoying or endearing. Because it’s definitely an act. Jim shows him enough in their morning melds every reset to keep him up to speed. 

 

“You know exactly what’s ‘inadequate,’ quit bullshitting me.”

 

“Jim, forgive me if I am misunderstanding now, but are you accusing me of lying?”

 

“Yes,” he answers flatly.

 

Spock just blinks at him with a vacant expression. Jim knows him well enough by this point to recognize that as his Jim-has-gone-and-done-something-completely-illogical-again-and-I-don’t-know-why expression. Which is just adorable.

 

Wait, Kirk thinks the Vulcan is adorable.

 

_ Fuck. _

 

Moving on.

 

“It went alright when I mutinied against you on the first go-round,” Jim offers, “and unlike you, I highly doubt that Pike would maroon me.”

 

“I would not be so confident in your place, Jim. It is impossible for you to know how events shall unfold.”

 

“And? What’s the worst that could happen? If I fail, then I get to start over, go at it again with a new angle.”

 

Spock somehow manages to make his expression even more serious. “You have made a grave lapse in judgement if you believe that the worst case scenario is another failed attempt on your part.”

 

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

 

“What if it works?” Something in Spock’s voice makes Jim’s blood run cold.

 

“Huh?”

 

“Assuming you mutiny against Captain Pike and successfully take control of  _ The Enterprise _ , and with myself and the crew by your side defeat Nero, saving Vulcan in the process… where does that leave you, Jim?”

 

“I…” He’s speechless. Well, almost. “As a mutineer, I guess.”

 

“Precisely.” Their eyes meet and Spock continues with far more emotion in his voice than Jim has ever heard from him. “You have not given thought to every eventuality, every possible permutation of reality. You are about to run headlong into a plan without considering all the outcomes, and that, James Kirk, is how one does irreparable damage not only to themselves, but those around them and perhaps the fabric of the universe itself.”

 

Jim frowns. “I hardly think my Starfleet career is a keystone to the stability of our universe.”

 

“I would not be so certain.” Spock’s expression turns pensive. “It is very unlikely that you were chosen for this task by what must be a highly intelligent being out of random chance.”

 

“You haven’t met him. Intelligent is not the right word.”

 

“Perhaps not. Yet if you are going to throw your life away, it ought be be over more than a frustrated whim.”

 

If Jim didn’t know any better, he would say that Spock was getting attached to him. Which isn’t possible, what with all the resets.

 

Or is it? After all, the guy is acting really familiar with someone that, from Spock’s perspective, he only met an hour ago.

 

“Okay. No mutiny, then.”

 

“And if I indulged in gambling, I would wager that you already have a new plan.”

 

Jim grins. “It’s more of a rough outline.”

 

There’s a lot in the sigh that Spock gives in response.

  
  


*.*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good news. No more hiatus.  
> Better news: the next few chapters are coming your way fast.


	12. Chapter 12

“When you said you had a plan, I had hoped it was something a little less suicidal.”

 

Jim shrugs, stirring an ungodly amount of sugar into his coffee. Life is meaningless and he’s earned it.  “I told you it was more of an outline. Besides, is it really suicide when I know it won’t stick?”

 

Interesting philosophical question. Allow Spock to retort. “Are we absolutely certain that it will not? You do not know if this loop has a time limit.”

 

“If you have a better idea, I’m all ears.”

 

Silence.

 

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

  
  


*.*

  
  


The plan is really complicated. Like, Jim wished that he could write it down somewhere and keep it complicated.

 

The idea is that the next few loops with be nothing but recon. Using the existing early alert code that Gaila was kind enough to throw together for him, and Spock dropping the charges early on in the day, Jim will be able to get on board  _ The Enterprise  _ just as he had been doing before. But that’s where shit starts to get crazy.

 

He needs to get down to Delta Vega. Because if anyone has any idea on how to defeat a Romulan from the future, it might be the Vulcan who brought him here in the first place.

 

Jim wonders how many attempts it will take him to successfully steal a Shuttlecraft from the Federations flagship in the middle of a firefight.

 

He’s going to guess a lot.

  
  


***Attempt 123***

  
  


Jim’s kind of embarrassed on behalf of the fleet. Stealing the shuttle was almost idiotically simple. Maybe humans are just a tad too trusting, even when fighting for their lives.

 

Then again, maybe no one was watching for it because the last thing you would expect is for a person to leave a Constitution Class Starship in the middle of a shooting gallery in favor of a glorified flying minivan.

 

Either way, Jim is going to have words with  _ The Enterprise’s  _ head of security after all of this. People that oblivious are likely to get themselves killed. On his first try, Jim was able to stroll right on up to a shuttle craft and walk right inside. It only took him about ten minutes to trip to computer into allowing the take off.

 

Which was a relief, honestly. While Spock would have been  _ willing  _ to clear it from the bridge, he doesn’t exactly have the time or mental energy to be worrying about Jim’s illegal shenanigans while trying to save his ship.

 

The real trouble for Kirk came not from security (obviously) but from the aforementioned firefeight. For while all shuttlecraft are equipped with shielding, apparently said shields may as well not exist in the face of the guns on  _ the Narada. _

 

And by the way, has Jim mentioned how much he does  _ not  _ like dying via decompression? Because it’s honestly the worst.

 

Fortunately for his fraying sanity, it doesn’t take that many tries to get down to the surface of Delta Vega. Nero is no doubt focused on the ‘Fleet, and his crew probably has little attention to spare for a lone shuttle craft running away from the fight.

 

Maybe this won’t be so hard after all.

 

Jim lands the shuttle, steals the onboard tricorder, and begins scanning for Vulcan life signs. Lo and behold, there is exactly one, about a two mile hike north. Things are finally looking up. Taking his lesson from the first time he was on this planet of ice and monsters, he knows better than to go outside without something burning.

 

The problem here, though, is that Starfleet doesn’t really believe in having flammable things lying around. Something about how fire in space makes astronauts die. Which may be true, but right now, fire is what he needs to  _ avoid _ death. A gruesome, bloody, violent death.

  
  


*.*

  
  


Crowbar plus undershirt, add small controlled blast from a phaser set to kill, and Jim has a small but functional torch. Hopefully it will be enough.

  
  


*.*

  
  


It almost wasn’t enough. Like, that was a very close call there. He almost didn’t notice the approaching beast because of how intent he was on making sure he was heading in the right direction.

 

The fact that he managed the stumble upon the old Vulcan by sheer dumb luck on the first go-round may say something about destiny. Or maybe it really was just pure dumb luck. Q may be the only being who would know the difference, but Jim really isn’t in the mood to see that asshole right now, so it’s not like he’s about to ask.

 

Either way, he does it on the first try, stumbles, cold to his bones but alive, into the cave where he had once before run for his life straight into.

 

Spock clearly has not been here very long. There’s no fire going like before. And he clearly was not expecting any sort of company going by the way he bolts to his feet as Jim strides over.

 

“Spock, I need--”

 

“James T. Kirk.” The wonder in the old Vulcan’s eyes is so transparent that it feels like a lightning bolt straight to Jim’s chest. “How did you find me?”

 

Jim sighs. “Honestly, sir, it’s a very long story, and I highly doubt that you would believe most of it.”

 

If the rest of  _ The Enterprise’s  _ service is anything like her maiden voyage, then Spock has seen some crazy shit. Not to mention the fact that the guy has literally just traveled back through time, and a twenty-five year old version of his Captain-slash-best-friend just burst into his remote cave of frozen isolation. So then again…

 

“On second thought, you probably will.”

 

The elder Spock smiles. An honest, open smile. Last time Jim checked, Vulcan’s don’t do that. Especially not this particular Vulcan. “Perhaps it would be best if you were, to put it bluntly, ‘cut the bullshit.’”

 

Jim’s eyes go wide. “Okay. Um… I’m caught in a time loop and relieving this day over and over again. We’ve met before, and I know about Nero, and what he plans to do-- which is to destroy Vulcan, by the way-- and the only way I can get out of this loop is to stop him. Without dying in the process, I’m pretty sure that is a requirement here, because every time I die the day starts over.”

 

It really says something about who Spock is as a person because he doesn’t even blink. He just nods once slowly to himself, and then meets Kirk’s eyes, a nearly terrifying determination in his gaze.

 

“Understood, Captain. What are your orders?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Questions? Concerns?  
> not-freyja.tumblr.com


	13. Chapter 13

The elder Spock bought Jim’s story nearly instantaneously. Honestly, he couldn’t have hoped for a better outcome. The problem is, that they don’t have a lot of time before Vulcan is-- before reset, that is.

 

“I need you to tell me about Nero’s ship. Everything you can.”

 

And he does. Without hesitation, Spock launches into a tirade about Romulan mining vessels. He begins with engine capability, which is just what Jim needed to hear. Twenty minutes in, Jim’s got them a nice fire going, which the old Vulcan seems to appreciate even if he says nothing, and Kirk is starting to get a good idea of the speed capabilities of  _ The Narada. _

 

Which are horrifying, by the way. That ship can  _ move. _

 

By the time the reset comes, he’s learned a lot.

  
  


***Attempt 124***

  
  


This time Jim manages to land a little closer to the natural shelter against the snow monsters and bitter cold that Spock logically has holed himself into. He’s bought himself an extra thirty minutes.

 

If he keeps going like this, Stage One of his extremely convoluted rough outline of a plan may not take as long as he had initially suspected.

 

The good news is, if he thought  _ his  _ Spock could dish out data fast, it has nothing on this guy.

  
  


***Attempt 137***

  
  


Jim’s almost sad to realize that he really doesn’t have a reason to come back to Delta Vega after this. The thought of leaving this older Spock to watch the death of his homeworld alone on loop is… it grabs ahold of something in his chest and twists.

 

But there really isn’t a point to come back here. Not really. Not until he’s ready to get Scotty, that is. (Because although Jim did not know the man for very long, from what he saw that is  _ definitely _ the man he wants in his engine room if this crazy scheme is going to work.)

 

So logically, after this final info dump, which is on the red matter itself this time, Jim has no reason to return here, to this place and time. Rationally this is it, he should just let the loop reset and carry on as though none of this had happened or ever will. He should forget about this sad looking old Vulcan left to watch the death of his world.

 

None of this is permanent. If JIm gts this right, then Spock never  _ will  _ have to watch that.

 

He shouldn’t care.

 

Then again… Jim thinks he’s earned a personal day by this point.

  
  


***Attempt 139***

  
  


When Jim marches into the cave this time, it is with purpose. Before Spock can even greet him or hit him with those painful, lonely eyes, Jim’s already talking.

 

“Spock, I know everything, there’s a time loop going on, and we’ve had this conversation about a dozen times.”

 

The corners of Spock’s eyes crinkle with amusement. “Indeed? That is a new one, Captain.”

 

“Tell me about it. I just… I wanted to know if we could talk?”

 

There is a brief pause. “About the specifications of  _ The Narada,  _ I presume?”

 

“Actually, we’ve been over that already.” A hint of confusion enters into Spock’s expression. Jim continues, “You’ve actually been an amazing help, and I wanted to thank you.”

 

“Surely you did not travel all the way to Delta Vega to issue a proclamation of gratitude that I have no doubt I will forget, should your statement about a repeating quantity of time indeed be true.”

 

“Which it is.”

 

“Certainly.”

 

“I actually just wanted your advice, sir.”

 

The fondness in Spock’s expression  _ hurts _ . “Then you shall have it.”

 

Jim forces a smile. “I’ll get a fire started.”

  
  


*.*

  
  


Jim is honestly not sure whether he is disappointed or relieved that getting the fire going didn’t take very long at all. On the one hand, even with the caves natural insulation and shelter from the wind, it’s fucking freezing. On the other, he’s now run out of excuses and now has to actually deal with his problems.

 

Damn.

 

“It is good to see you again, old friend.”

 

Spock’s words from a few days ago ring through his mind,  _ cut the bullshit. _ Which is probably great advice considering that they only have about an hour before reset, and next time Jim might chicken out and not attempt this again.

 

“What am I to you?”

 

Out of nowhere the ‘Proper Vulcan’ routine flashes into existence. Spock’s posture becomes stiffer, expressions more stilted. The elder has never resembled his younger counterpart more. “If you would clarify?”

 

This may have been a mistake. “You call me ‘friend,’ Spock. Is that what we are, when you’re from? Friends? Or something more?”

 

“I do not think it is wise to tell you such a thing, Jim. The ways in which too much knowledge of the future may alter your timeline--”

 

“--My timeline already  _ is _ altered, Spock!” His more than anyone’s, now that he thinks about it. “Coming back in time, you changed all our lives. And I’m not asking for you to tell me the future, I don’t want all the answers.”

 

“Then what do you want?”

 

Excellent question. “I don’t know. All I know is that there’s this feeling I have, with the younger you. And I don’t know if it’s something, or nothing, or if I’m just losing my mind here in this never ending hell of a day.”

 

The stoic facade cracks into curiosity. “Elaborate.”

 

Some of the tension eases out of Jim’s shoulders. “Everytime we meld, it feels  _ right,  _ you know? Like it’s supposed to be that way. Like coming home. As if my mind just wants to grab onto his and never let go. I guess my real question is whether that is a normal mind meld thing, or…?”

 

He lets the rest of his question hang unspoken. Spock’s smart enough to fill in the blanks.

 

“T’hy’la.”

 

“I’m sorry?” Jim recognizes the word as Vulcan, but not a phrase he’s ever hear before.

 

The sigh Spock gives him in response in deep. “It is not something I can explain, not to the full extent of it’s meaning. But essentially, that is the feeling you are describing. It is the true compatibility between two individuals.”

 

Penny’s in the air. 

 

“As in telepathically?”

 

“...not only, but yes.”

 

And the penny drops.

 

“You’re telling me we’re soulmates?”

 

“Not my choice of words, Captain, but that is perhaps the best way for you to understand it.”

 

“Oh my god, how is this my life?” Jim’s mind is shorting out. “But that’s not… it can’t… we don’t even know each other, not really, not yet!”

 

“You mentioned melding. With what frequency?”

 

Jim shrugs. “Nearly every day, for the past few months-- for me that is-- he doesn’t remember any of it, I’m the center of the loop.”

 

“Jim, what have you done?”

 

“Nothing! I just need his help, you know? And it’s the only way I have to convince him I’m telling the truth. As far as lie detectors go, telepathy is pretty efficient. What harm can a few mind melds really do when he doesn’t even remember them in the morning?”

 

Going by the look of horror on the Vulcan’s face, maybe a lot more harm than Jim imagined.

 

“I would prefer not to do this, considering the circumstances. But I need to assess the damage.” Spock visibly steels himself. “With your permission, I would have your thoughts.”

 

This is starting to sound like Jim’s fucked up big time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> James T. Kirk, the master of understatement.  
> Want to harass the writer? Have my Tumblr: not-freyja


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One million apologies for the wait. Other things in life had deadlines, and triage put this on the back burner. Forgive me?

Melding with the older Spock is… interesting.

 

It’s about a million times more controlled than the melds Jim has been initiating with the younger Vulcan counterpart. Jim just isn't sure if that’s because of the elder’s experience, or because Jim has developed a tendency to go crashing into Spock’s mind like a wrecking ball. Honestly? It’s probably a little bit of both.

 

Either way, with this Vulcan the meld is smooth, less of a telepathic car crash and more of a slide of honey. Spock’s consciousness gently attaching itself to his, and before Jim knows what’s happening, he’s under.

 

Jim opens his eyes to find himself standing in a field of high grass, the older Spock by his side. This isn’t a memory, there’s no knowledge or feeling flowing through him or pouring out.

 

This is something that has never happened before.

 

“What is this?” Jim asks.

 

Jim didn't’ think it was possible for a Vulcan to be expressing the amount of raw sorrow that Spock is giving off in waves.. “This is your mind. Or rather, a visual representation of it.”

 

“My mind is a field of wheat?”

 

“What else would it be?”

 

Jim considers this for a moment, trailing his fingers across the tips of the stalks as he does. “What’s yours?”

 

“A desert.”

 

“Makes sense.” Jim spins in a slow circle, taking a look around. The field stretches as far as he can see in almost every direction. The sheer size of the place incalculable, incomprehensible.

 

The more he takes in, the less Jim even starts to think of it all as a field, but more of a plain. The tall-grass prairie that used to exist where his hometown stands now probably looked a lot like this. Nothing but an endless sea of grass.

 

But in one spot, the stalks seems to disappear _before_ the horizon, not beyond it like the everywhere else. The sky, that over the entire field appears as a deep crystal blue, is also altered down at that end, fading into an almost sunset-red.  “What part of my mind is that?”

 

“...it isn’t.”

 

Well that was cryptic and explained nothing. And they’re running out of time. Without comment Jim starts toward the off-colored portion of the sky at a brisk walk.

 

“Jim,” the old Vulcan effortlessly keeps up with him. “It may not be wise to go prodding at this time.”

 

He whirls around, causing the other man to almost walk right into him. “Then when _would_ it be wise? Because you haven’t told me much buddy, but what you have told me has led me to believe that I’m paddling up shit creek. So either help me figure out what I did to my head, which was the point of this, or get out of my way.”

 

To Jim’s fury, Spock looks amused.

 

“What?”

 

“You have a much shorter temper than I remember.”

 

Jim lets out a slight chuckle against his will. “Alright. I’m sorry. But can you _please_ cut the cryptic nonsense and cut to the chase? We don’t have a lot of time.”

 

“Apologies, Captain.” Spock visibly steels himself. And for the life of him, Jim can not tell if the reluctance is so apparent because of all the melding he’s been doing with Spocks lately or if the guy is actually so upset he’s emoting.

 

Going by the little ‘you were my soulmate in another life’ speech that Jim got earlier, he’s going to guess a little bit of both. “You ready?”

 

Not waiting for a response, Jim starts off towards the odd pseudo-sunset again.

  


*.*

  


The seemingly endless waves of wheat don’t break as he all but runs through them, but rather bend around Jim and the elder Spock, springing back into place behind them. The ground underneath is warm Earth, and it smells like Iowa, and the more he sees more endless it seems. The very idea of finding something different, of finding an end to it all is absurd.

 

And then he sees _it._

 

Almost without warning, the stalks give way to a barren sandy landscape in miniature. And Jim does mean miniature. For while it may appear to be a natural healthy desert ecosystem, the sudden black void that cuts it away only a few yards after it begins certainly is not natural.

 

“What the fuck?” Jim all but whispers.

 

Spock, of course, hears him anyway. “Did you meld with your timeline’s Spock this morning?”

 

“No, there wasn’t a need to. I just followed the script of the day, and snuck away during the firefight. We really don’t have that much time.” Jim blinks. “Why does that matter?”

 

The Vulcan sighs, eyes fixed on the unnatural void where the desert logically should continue. “Because, that, Jim, is where the bond broke the last time you died.”

 

Something in Jim’s chest goes cold.

 

“Bond? What bond?”

 

Spock doesn’t speak, not really. Yet they are kind of literally inside of Jim’s brain, so the ideas come across all the same. Ideas of connection, permanence, love. And even more pressing, the ideas of pain, of mental trauma, of telepathic damage on a fragile psi-null human mind.

 

And then Jim understands.

  


***Attempt 140***

  


Just in time, as it turns out, because it’s nearly the same moment that the realization hits him that he’s blinking awake, back in his bed at the start of yet another miserable day.

 

He stares, shell-shocked up at the ceiling, ignoring his alarm clock as it beeps merily away at him. All the mind-melding has created a telepathic bond with Spock. A bond that breaks every time the loop resets, and reforms everytime they meld.

 

A bond, that, should the raw emotion he got off of the elder Spock is anything to go by, is a problem of a scale beyond Kirk’s comprehension.

 

It would suffice to say, he’s fucked.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So from here on out, I'm refusing to let myself neglect this fic anymore. Because I do adore it. So expect at least one update a week. Promise.


	15. Chapter 15

Getting Bones to leave him alone is surprisingly easy considering how much of a mother hen the guy usually is. All it takes is a few sarcastic comments about needing to sleep until next semester a one good scowl. And then Bones went out leaving Jim to sleep, and by ‘sleep,’ here Jim means brood.

 

Because there really isn’t any way to slice this situation that doesn’t sound objectively terrible.

 

On the one hand, there’s the fact that he’s developed a mental link to a Vulcan that he’s gotten pretty attached to. Like, really attached. Said attachment that may or may not have caused this situation, or even worse,been caused  _ by _ the whole telepathic ordeal.

 

Jim’s honestly not sure which would be worse.

 

And the elder Spock seemed pretty freaked out. Scarily freaked out. And he never got the chance to explain but Jim definitely felt the perception of danger to his mental stability there. And Jim has no idea how to gage what in the hell could be going on on the other side of that link he’s apparently been forming just to snap every day.

 

He’s not an expert on Vulcan telepathy.

 

Which only leaves one option: consult an expert.

 

Considering that the only Vulcan he personally knows is Spock himself, that seems like an unlikely outcome without yet another hike to Delta Vega.

 

And to be perfectly frank, he’s just not in the mood.

 

He’s earned a personal day.

  
  


***Attempt 152***

  
  


Okay, maybe he’s earned a dozen personal days. Give or take a few weeks.

 

After all, what’s going to happen?

 

The end of the world?

  
  


***Attempt 168***

  
  


Actions without consequences can be kind of fun, once Jim ignores the whole ‘unending time loop, impending end of the world, and building psychic trauma’ thing that he has hanging over himself.

 

He finally gets around to reading all those books that he had downloaded impulsively over the whole last semester. And his Andorian is finally starting to sound like it’s being spoken by someone without a lisp.

 

Shit, he’s even finished the reading assignments for the rest of the year.

 

Jim thinks he might start on next year’s syllabus while he’s at it.

 

After all, he’s got the time.

  
  


***Attempt 173***

  
  


Jim’s coffee freezes in mid-air between the pot and his mug. Which is an  _ interesting  _ thing to witness, really. Because he is suddenly faced with the weirdest choice: does he let go of the pot of boiling hot coffee, leaving it dangling in mid air, trusting that the laws of physics won’t turn back on and hit him in the face with boiling coffee? Or does he scoop the coffee up out of the literal air?

 

“I didn’t think that the time freeze would fascinate you so much anymore, Jimmy boy.”

 

Jim lets go of the pot with a small wince in anticipation of the crash that he was almost sure was coming. But it holds, so he turns around with a shrug. “The suspended liquid was new for me, okay? And besides,” he gestured vaguely around the room while staring at Q, “this whole thing is still super weird.”

 

“You’re right,” Q says with a smile. An unpleasant smile. A rather less pleasant smile than his smiles (that are already pretty unpleasant) usually are. “You are  _ absolutely _ right. This is super weird for you.”

 

Jim frowns. “Did you think that getting caught in a time loop was something that most humans just take in stride?”

 

The being laughs, throwing his head back in mirth. “That’s hilarious. You’re hilarious.”

 

Kirk watches warily in silence, waiting for the manic glint in Q’s eye to disappear. In this moment he feels very much like a helpless prey animal.

 

“You’re not  _ like _ most humans, Jimbo.” Q’s smile becomes more sincere, and somehow that’s worse. Jim has to fight down a shudder. “That’s why I picked you.”

 

“I don’t understand.”

 

“I thought I made the rules of the game quite clear.” Q says, arching an eyebrow and letting some of the humor leave his eyes. “I know you can figure out two simple rules, Kirk.”

 

Something inside of Jim cracks. “I can’t do this, Q. It’s not working. I’ve tried, but…” he sighs. “I just don’t see a way out of this one.”

 

There’s an anxiety inducing moment of silence. Where JIm gets to consider all of the wonderful things a being that can control time can do to him for pissing them off.

 

And then suddenly Q is all smiles again, looking fit to burst with laughter.

 

This conversation is giving Jim whiplash.

 

“I thought you didn’t believe in no-win scenarios.”

 

Before Jim can do so much as blink Q is gone, his words ringing in Jim’s ears. A sudden crash comes behind him, as Kirk turns to see his coffee pot shatter into nothing as if he had thrown it onto the counter.

 

He leaps backwards to avoid the splash of the boiling black coffee, his heel catches the corner of a chair. Arms pinwheeling in a futile attempt to stabilize himself or even grab onto something to halt his fall, he crashes gracelessly to the floor.

 

The crack of the back of his head against the tile reverberates as the warm dark of unconsciousness washes over him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, having free time for the first day in literal weeks, I figured I'd throw this little chapter at you all, and then get back to writing proper. Hopefully this tides everyone over for at least a day or two so I can get more out!


End file.
